Dear Motherfucking Journal
by XSpecial-Dreamer-Like-YouX984
Summary: Alright fucker, here goes. My name's Lovino Romano' Vargas, 16 years of age, male, Italian. It's nearly the end of my Summer Holiday. Obviously I'm in fucking High School, so let's see how things go. Well, as of late my life sucks dick. Rated for Lovino's constant cursing. It IS his journal after all.
1. Chapter 1

**Yo! Vanilla/Dreamer here! This is my first multi-chapter fanfiction thing that I'll be working on for now on, so I hope you guys like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Hidekaz Hima-papa does.**

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_Dear Motherfucking Journal,_

Alright fucker, here goes. My name's Lovino Romano' Vargas, 16 years of age, male, Italian. It's nearly the end of my Summer Holiday. Obviously I'm in fucking High School, so let's see how things go. Well, as of late my life sucks dick. The only reason why I'm writing in this stupid thing is because Nonno and my stupid-as-fuck counselor told me that writing down the events that happen would help relieve out stress or some shit. As if it'll help me with all the complications in my life. (But I might keep it as a thing for my future self to read whatever the fuck happens in life.) But anyways, I'm off track.

What the fuck should I write on here anyways? Personal things? Pfffffffffft. Things that are happening in my life? ... Maybe. But nothing is going on right now.

... Why did I bother to try and write in you again? Beats me, but fuck it.

_10 Minutes Later _

Feliciano, my idiotic, air-headed brother just came home with pasta. Hu-fucking-rrah. I swear, he could eat a fucking mountain and still have room for gelato.

I have another brother, his name is Marcello. He's the youngest, yet the most flirtatious. Maybe it's because he's lived with Nonno far longer than me and Feli (Feliciano's nickname).

See, our parents never liked us. Actually, no, our dad never liked us. Mom loved Feliciano. They forgot about me. Or they ignored me. They completely forgot about Marcello unless he was crying. Didn't matter, since Feliciano would still have gotten the most loved. I only had one friend, and that was an old teddy bear my mom gave me when I was two, before Feli was born. (We were born in the same Day and Month, but not the same year.) I think I still have him. I used to call him _Pomodoro_. So when our parents were running low on cash, they decided to just leave us with Nonno. They gave Nonno Marcello first, since they thought he was so troublesome and didn't have time to take care of a baby.

Those fucking assholes. Sometimes I wonder why people would have kids if they weren't even going to take care of them.

But anyways. Whoops, dinner's ready.

_After Dinner _

_Mio Dio_, Feliciano cooked a fucking truck of pasta! He's _still _eating in his room. It's right next to mine, I could hear him just fucking scarfing that shit down his throat like it was nothing. Anyways, where the hell was I last time? I lost track of my train of thought. Fuck.

_After Thinking _

Fuck it, never mind. I don't remember what I was going to write. Well, whatever, I guess that just leaves me time and space to practice my writing skills. (I secretly motherfucking _love _writing, almost as much as I love cooking. And that's saying something coming from me.)

[[Lovino's Writing]]]

_Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter._

_Soft drops of rain fell upon the glass window, eyes staring at it like it was diamonds or the world's prettiest object. Those gazel-green eyes belonged to a boy. The boy often wondered why the sky would turn all dark and just start crying._

_Sometimes, he does that too. He would feel 'dark', or negative, and he would end up with rain streaking down his face. And sometimes, he even wept with the rain. _

_But those were only when his Mama, Papa, and fratello were asleep or away. He didn't want anyone to see those glossy, diamond tears streaking down his face. He doubted anyone would notice, anyway. _

... Oh my fuck I caught writer's block. Oh well.

The fuck should I do now? It's around 8 P.M.-ish. Maybe I could read a book.

_After Checking _

Ah shit. I forgot the old man hardly reads. Now what..?

Maybe I could practice my cooking skills. Wait, never mind, I just got an idea for writing.

[[Lovino's Writing]]]

_The little boy with a dark(ish) shade of auburn hair (with a weird curl) and hazel-green eyes tugged consistently on a taller male's shirt, trying to get him to acknowledge the little boy. When the taller male finally acknowledged the little boy's presence, hazel-green eyes seemed to widen with sparks. "Mister, mister!" The little boy called out. "How do you make friends?" _

_The taller male was quite surprised by the question. But then, he noticed that they looked a lot alike. He kneeled down, eye-level with the kid, and said, "Listen kid, there are two types of people. There are those who could make friends with just one simple, bright smile. Like your fratello. But then, there's me and you." _

_Without hesitation, the kid interrupted him, asking, "I can't make friends?"_

_The tall male patted the little child's head lightly, careful to avoid the curl. "I don't know. Hopefully. Maybe one day we'll find our happy ending. All I know is that that happy ending isn't going to come until a very long time. Maybe never." _

_And with that, he stood up and walked away. The little boy followed behind, and soon they were gone._

That was definitely not based off of my past and present life. Nope. Definitely not.

.. Shut the hell up.

ANY-MOTHER-FUCKING-WAYS, I just realized that I haven't watered my tomato plants all day and it's, like, 8:36. Nonno wants us in bed by 10:00. My tomato garden is larger than a regular fucking garden. I wonder if I can make it.

_Later _

Fucking hell Nonno gave me a heart attack while I was watering my tomatoes. Like, he _literally _popped out of a random bush in my huge-ass garden and was eating one of my precious _pomodoro _and I was holding the hose. So. Y'know. I 'accidentally' splashed him with water. He was soaking wet after though, and clearly not amused. He says he might get a cold or something. Fuck I might be in trouble. Oh well.

_Later_

Feliciano just bursted in my room with Marcello and declared we were going to watch the fucking movie _UP. _Like hell I would.

_More Later_

... Okay, they got me into watching it. I swear to God they are both the fucking masters of the famous Puppy-dog eye technique.

"We could teach you!" They chorused. They both read my journal thingy.

"The fuck are you guys doing reading this?" I asked.

"We wanted to, since you never tell us what's going on in your mind anyways." The twerp Marcello said.

"That's because it's motherfucking private maybe?" I just said matter-of-factly.

Ah fuck. Feliciano's going through my CD's now.

_More Later (Again)_

So, we just finished the part where the chick named Elly/Ellie dies. Goddamit, my pillows are going to be fucking soaked until morning.

"They were so young and in love!" cried Feliciano.

I looked at him strangely. They weren't _that _young. But hey, _they _were the experts in love, I guess.

"Lovino! How could you just write in your journal while in the funeral?! Have some respect will you!" Marcello scolded me. Oh the fucker did _not _just say that. Before I could strangle him, Feliciano told both of us to shut up, since we were ruining the movie.

Yeah, it might be a shocker to some people to see li'l adorable as fuck Feliciano tell us to shut up, but when he tells you to shut up, you better motherfucking shut the hell up or he will literally shove the nearest object in your mouth. Me and Marcello speak from experience. I had to fucking taste a pillow for fuck's sake. That's been cried and sat on. Ew. Marcello had to taste a fucking pair of old nasty-ass socks though. So he got it worse.

"It's time to go to bed kiddos!" Nonno boomed, suddenly bursting into my room. Sometimes I wonder if my family's ever tried knocking before. I hardly doubt right now.

Well, anyways, got to hit the hay. That sounds weird coming from me. Buonanotte.

_**The Next Day **_

_Good-fucking-morning motherfucking journal,_

Why the fuck am I Good morning-ing a journal?

Don't fucking ask, I'm in a good-ish mood. Yes I'm a morning person.

Now, I know most people aren't morning persons, but I am. And that's because in the morning, I just woke up and nobody is awake yet. Which means nobody's come to ruin my day.

Yet.

Well, anyways.

What the fuck should I do right now? I just woke up and nobody's awake yet (yay).

It's 7:56. Why the fuck am I up at 7:56 during the Summer Holiday? That's just absurd. And stupid. Maybe I should go back to sleep.

_Later _

Yeah no. Going back to sleep did not work.

Maybe I should water my huge-ass tomato garden. I don't really want to forget and end up watering at night again, since last time I had a near heart-attack. And it ain't like anybody's gonna see me watering a tomato garden during early in the morning.

_Much later _

That was weird. Um.

So, I was watering my _pomodoro giardino prezioso _when I spot this fucking stranger staring at one of my tomato baby. (Shut the fuck up, all the tomatoes in my garden are my babies.)

He had chocolatey brown curls and bright emerald eyes (I did not check him out, dammit! Shut the hell up!). He looked like he was out on a walk until he spotted my garden. He was probably awed by how large my tomato garden was. Of course, I am prideful of this baby, so why the hell would he _not _be awed by my garden?

But anyways. The guy had been staring at some of my tomatoes for minutes now and it's really weird. Since it was still early (somewhere around 8:00-ish) and nobody was awake yet, I decided to approach the weirdo.

"Hey," I called out, "Who the fuck're you?"

He turned to look at who called out to him, and then smiled brightly to me.

"Hola~!" He, uh, greeted, I guess.

Ugh, I did _not _want to start a conversation with strangers this early in the morning. But I guess I had it coming, I _was_ the one that called out to him.

I didn't greet back. Who just randomly greets a stranger at 8:12 A.M.? No one, that's who. Unless you want to be friends with that stranger, of course. But I didn't want to make friends right now.

"I'll ask again, bastardo, who the fuck're you?" He had it coming. I mean, nobody just _stares_ at _my _tomatoes. They're valuable. _Prezioso. My_ tomatoes.

The stranger still kept his smile, but he did back away a few steps. I had the hose, I could just attack him with it anytime I wanted, and he seemed to notice too.

"I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, and I couldn't help but be amazed at all these tomatoes! D'you grow them yourself?" He asked.

Whoopdydoo, conversation with strangers. Note the sarcasm in that sentence?

"_Si, _I do grow them myself. What of it?" I asked.

"Well, it's really cool and well taken care of, I was just wondering who took care of it. And by the looks of all these tomatoes, you did a great job!"

Whoa, I was complimented by a stranger. How many times has that happened before? Not once in my life. Usually strangers would think I'm rude and make spiteful comments, so this is new. What's next, he's going to try to befriend me? That'd be a first.

"What's your name?"

I was not prepared for such a stupid question. And such a _coincidental_ stupid question.

Was the guy a mind reader or some shit? Whatever.

"Why should I give you my name?" I ask. '_Answer a stupid question with another question'_, I thought to myself. '_Well, more like a snappy come-back.' _

The guy- Antonio - just gave me this big bright smile and says something stupid like, "Well, you know my name so I should know yours. It'd only be fair, no?"

Only then did I realize his accent. Maybe he's from Spain. I dunno, I was just taking a random guess. (Don't look at me like that, I wasn't paying attention to the fact that he greeted me in Spanish!)

But anyways, I scowled at him for his (somewhat) witty remark. Only to be fair, I answered, "Lovino Vargas."

Antonio's smile seemed to increase, if that was possible. He kinda reminded me of Feli. Then he did something I didn't think he would do. He stretched out his arm and held out his hand, waiting for me to shake it. "Hola Lovino, I'm Antonio. Nice to meet you!" he said.

I would have usually splashed anyone who said that to me, especially a stranger, and I'd be lying if I wrote I did, but I didn't. Instead I slowly and hesitantly shook his hand with mine, but I didn't say anything.

Just then I heard Nonno call me from inside the house, telling me that breakfast was ready (I wasn't surprised they would know I was here without coming outside). I walked away from Antonio without saying a word, but I heard him say, "Adios, Lovino!", before I came inside.

So yeah. That happened not too long ago.

_Later _

So Feliciano and Marcello decided to bug me about who that stranger was. And Marcello just _had _to make it awkward by saying he had a nice ass.

"What?" He asked. We were all looking at him. "It's true!"

"Whatever. Anyways, who was he? A friend? Boyfriend?" Feliciano asked. Right then and there Nonno butted in and yelled something like, "WHAT?! Lovino Romano Vargas, if he _is _your boyfriend and you told me nothing about it, ohoho, you better watch out! I will come and get you."

I groaned in annoyance. "He is _not _my boyfriend. We just met! I barely know the guy and there you guys are already jumping to conclusions. What kind of 'we just met' don't you three understand?!"

They decided to drop it, but kept on giving me side glances. This was going to be a long, long breakfast. I could tell.

_Later _

Okay, I survived breakfast without further interrogation. Great. My family is so weird sometimes, they just immediately jump to conclusions. This wasn't the first time they thought a stranger was my girlfriend/boyfriend, but it gets extremely annoying.

Anyways, how should I spend the rest of my day? It's around 9:13, I have thirteen hours left until I go to bed. Feliciano is out getting groceries, Marcello might be at the town flirting with the local girls, and fuck if I know what Nonno's doing.

Maybe I should go for a walk.

_After the Walk _

So, the walk wasn't too bad. I flirted a little bit with pretty ladies, I ate some of my tomatoes, and I bumped into the stranger again. I forgot his name, I think it started with an A.

A.. Antonio maybe?

Well anyways, I met up with him again, and he started a conversation with me. I didn't feel like making any friends today _(lies)_, so I gave short but clear answers. At one point, we were talking about books and which books we really enjoyed. I told him, "Runaway by Wendelin Van Draanen, Jeremy Fink and The Meaning of Life, and The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart. I read those books in fourth and fifth grade, and loved them._" _I accidentally let that last part slip, and he looked at me in surprise.

"Wow Lovino! You remembered them all the way from fourth and fifth grade?! You have excellent memory skills, then!" He complimented. I mumbled a little 'Thanks.' I told him a little bit of it, and said that the first question of the first test was,

"**The territories of the Naxcivan Autonomous Republic and the Nagorno-Karabakh are disputed by what countries?" **

"Of course, like any kid, I was like, 'Whoa what the fuck?'. But then Reynie - the first guy I told you about- figured out a pattern. Each question was connected to another. For example , on question twenty-one, it read: 'After the fall of the Russian Empire, when a failed attempt to create a Transcaucasian Republic with Georgia and Armenia led to the creation of Azerbaijan, put parenthesis' here, which currently disputes with Armenia the territories of the Naxcivan Autonomous Republic and the Nagorno-Karabakh region, from what key powers did Azerbaijan—"Antonio interrupted me, but I didn't mind since it stopped there.

"But that just gave out the answer to question one, about the territores of the Naxcivan Autonomour Republic and the Nagorno-Karabakh, right?" he asked, and I looked at him astounded. I don't use that word a lot, and I hardly smile, so for me to be astounded, you must have done something incredibly stupid or incredibly nice, or a mixture of both. _I _didn't figure that out until the author pointed it out by saying Reynie got it. And I thought that by the questions he asked, he might've been stupid!

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just that I didn't get that until the author pointed it out. I'm surprised you caught the pattern that quickly," I replied. He then offered if I would like to go to a cafe with him, since he was tired from standing. I was too, so I accepted the offer, and we continued our talk.

"..And then the second question 'wanted to know where the common vetch originated and to what family it belonged to.' Yep. I remembered it word from word. But get this, the twenty-second question said, 'Despite having originated in Europe, the vice known as the common vetch, (a member of the pea family) is widely...' and that was the answer to the second question. Reynie noticed that it happened in vice-versa, and was the only one to accomplish the test.

"The second kid, Sticky Washington," he held a little chuckle, "actual name George Washington, actually _knew _all the answers to the question. Said that everything he read would stick in his head. Genius kid, I tell you. He didn't know it was a puzzle, though, and he got lucky since he ran out of time and had three questions left and just randomly circled any. Reynie said they'd make a good team. I remember that his parents were a pair of assholes. Once they found out how genius he was, they used him. And for what? Money. They made him go to a bunch of fucking quiz competitions and didn't even care about the way _he _felt about them. They didn't care. And they had the fucking _nerve _to say that if Sticky cared, he would try harder and harder to win, since only by winning would he be bringing wealth and happiness to the family. I hated his parents with a passion," I commented. _Because he was used and unloved by them, like I was. __  
_

"And then this third kid, a chick named Kate Wetherall, came in the picture. She was an orphan, lost both her parents. Her mom died, and her dad.." I hesitated a little bit, but I continued. "..Left her when she was two, I think. She ran away from the orphanage a couple times, and decided to live in a circus. Until she took the tests, that is. She carried a bucket around with her everywhere she went. I remember she had a Swiss Army knife, a flashlight, rope, a pen light, a bottle of extra-strength glue, a bag of marbles, a slingshot, a spook of clear fishing twin, one pencil and one eraser, a kaleidoscope, and a horse-shoe magnet. I think she had more, I don't remember. And then later on, in the fourth chapter, you'll meet Constance. She had sass, and I liked that..."

I told him nearly everything about _The Mysterious Benedict Society. _Luckily I know that book's somewhere at Nonno's house, since I bought it last year when I found it at a bookshop. I told him I could lend it to him, he just had to give it back to me after reading all of it.

Then I went home.

Nothing much happened at home. I reread The Mysterious Benedict Society and enjoyed it, like always. Those kids were smart as fuck, I tell you. And I liked Mr. Benedict. A nice and badass man.

_More Later_

For the rest of the day, I was either cooking random meals, reading, or writing something. I really enjoyed this one piece of writing.

[[[Lovino's Writing]]]

_Lies. They were all lies. His parents had said that they loved him, but in all reality, they didn't. They used him. They ignored him when he just wanted a little bit of recognition. They didn't care. Not one single bit. But he was okay. He would always tell himself he was okay. If he had to tell the truth, he would say he was not okay. _

_He loved his parents, so why didn't they love him back? Had he done something wrong? If he did, he apologized. He always did. Had he made mama or papa angry? If he did, he said sorry. Do they not love him? Maybe. Maybe that was the reason why. They loved his little brother a lot better. _

_"Oi," he said to his brother, who was only one. He poked his cheek. "What did you do to mama and papa? They don't like me anymore. Papa doesn't seem to like you either, but mama loves you a lot, and they don't like me at all.. What did you do? How come they love you more than me? I thought I was special, too." _

_His little brother couldn't really understand him, so he smiled at Big Brother. Big brother was strong, and smart, and cared for him too. But big brother looked sad. Why was big brother sad? He didn't know. He couldn't understand. He was only one year old. _

_The bigger brother, who was three, pouted. Little brother smiled, but didn't answer. Did little brother not like him too? But he played with him, and fed him when mama asked him to. And he was little. Maybe he couldn't understand. _

_Mama came back, and she immediately hugged little brother. She didn't notice him again. Papa came home later, but didn't say or do anything to either children. However, papa finally talked to him again and said, "Hey little champ, d'you wanna come with me to the park?" _

_"Si!" The three years old beamed. Papa hardly spent time with mama and little brother, so he felt special when papa asked him. _

_He thought it would be fun, to be with papa. But papa hardly played with him. He kept on chatting with pretty ladies. He didn't take notice of him until he almost went him without him. _

_Later, when he grew up, he finally noticed that he was being used. He was being used by Papa to go to the park and hit on women. Women who were not mama. _

_Papa came home later and later, and once, mama and papa had a very big argument. Papa slapped mama, and mama kept on yelling. There was so much yelling... _

_He tried to stop it. He tried to stop the fighting, because it scared little brother, and it scared him. He didn't like it when mama and papa were like that to each other. They were being mean to each other, and they were hurting one another. _

_He came in the middle of both of them, and cried, "Stop! Mama, papa, please stop!" _

_Papa was going to hit him with a beer bottle, but little brother crawled to big brother's side and got hit instead. Little brother was only two back then, and even though he was only four, he knew that something was going to go wrong with little brother. Mama immediately stopped screaming at papa, but papa kept on hitting her. Mama came in front of her two boys, and was getting extremely hurt by papa. He didn't like it. Not one bit. _

_Trying to help mama, big brother came infront of her and held out his arms as wide as he could to protect her as best as he can. But it only ended up with papa making a long scar that started above big brother's eye brow and all the way down his cheek, a close to his nose. Mama had had enough, and ran with her two precious babies to the hospital. _

_Later, the hospital said that little brother would have head problems later in his life, and that big brother would be okay, but he would have a long ugly scar that wouldn't fade away for as long as he lived. Mama was relieved, and nearly cried tears of joy to hear that little brother was going to be okay. She didn't think of big brother. She never thought of big brother. _

End of that. It was sad, sure, but I like how I wrote it. Shit, there are tear stains on the paper now. I'll write more tomorrow, bye.

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**So that's the first chapter! I hope you guys liked it as much as I liked writing it! I honestly did read all the books that Lovino said he read, and they seriously are some of my favorites. I never got to finish The Mysterious Benedict Society fifth grade though, and I only recently borrowed it in my school's library ;u; I missed it a lot, and I forgot a lot of things, but in just one day I got to read 125 pages! :'D That's a lot to me, since I don't fancy reading books, but damn this thing's interesting! Runaway was sadly awesome, and Jeremy Fink and The Meaning of Life was a wonderful read. I recommend all three! If any of the characters seem OOC, please inform me as soon as you can! And the translations below this author's note was from google translate, and I do not trust that little piece of shit that much. SO, if any of them are wrong, feel free to correct me and tell me what the right ones are either reviews or PMs! Grazie! And by the way, this is the longest thing I've EVER written! Hopefully there will be longer chapters later on. **

_Pomodoro - Italian - Tomato_

_Nonno - Italian -Grandfather_

_Fratello - Italian - Brother_

___pomodoro giardino prezioso - Italian - Precious tomato Garden_

___Si - Italian - Yes_

**I think that's all the things that need to be translated. Well, anyways, see you guys in the second chapter! Review please! I want to know if I honestly should or should not continue this ;u;**

**-Vanilla/Dreamer~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for patiently waiting for the second chapter of 'Dear Motherfucking Journal', guys! Sorry it took me so long, writer's block and procrastination were the major problems on why I didn't finish this earlier. Anyways..**

**Ohmygoshnoguysawwww. ;u; Thanks for all those who've read, reviewed, favorited, and followed! It means a lot to me! :D I seriously thought I wouldn't get any more reviews than one but asdfghjkl; D'AWW THANKS GUYS WHO REVIEWED ;u;**

**Oh, and I forgot to mention on the first chapter, there will be multi-pairings, but the absolute main is Spamano.**

**Other pairings are: SeboSeal (SeborgaxSealand), GerIta (GermanyxItaly), PruAus (PrussiaxAustria), and Franada (FrancexCanada). They won't appear a lot, just maybe for around 6 (at most) chapters and then you won't see them anymore.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia! Himapapa does!**

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_Dear Motherfucking Journal,_

The next morning, Feliciano and Marcello bursted in my room like fucking maniacs trying to run from the cops. It wasn't even time to wake up yet, and here they, were jumping on my bed, telling me to wake the fuck up. It wasn't like I had any choice, so I woke up and got ready for breakfast. Downstair was Nonno, making us breakfast. They woke me up and breakfast wasn't even ready yet. Great. Breakfast was noisy as usual, with both Marcello and Feliciano talking their heads off. I didn't pay much attention and nearly fell asleep on the table. Hey, I read books until 2 AM and it's 9:34 AM - I'm still tired as fuck. I had no idea what the fuck my_ fratelli_ were talking about until I heard them say something about a cute boy or whatever. I wasn't interested as to who the so-called 'cute boy' was, but as a big brother, I felt a bit of protectiveness wash over me. Hey, it happens when you're the eldest.

"He seemed at least two-ish years younger, but he was cute. He had the weirdest and biggest eyebrows I've ever seen on a person, but I reconsidered when I saw his older brother. Oh, the cutie was wearing a sailor's outfit, too," Marcello rambled on.

So the prat's found another so-called 'cutie' that he'll probably flirt with and crush on for the next two weeks, eh?

"Do you even know his name?" Feliciano asked. Hahaha, Marcello should've seen that coming. Usually he would fall in love at first sight before even knowing the person's name.

This time, Marcello actually did know the guy's name. They conversed, and he didn't try to flirt with him. That left me and Feliciano a little bit of shock, but it was nice to know he actually liked this person. Even if they had met only once. He said the guy's name was Peter or some shit, and I forget the last name.

And then Feliciano started talking about this nice German man that helped him when a bunch of other people started teasing and harassing him, and of course, me being the eldest brother had to go worry about a bunch of things. What if my_ fratelli_ actually fell in love with these two guys and they end up breaking their hearts? Being the oldest brother, I cannot allow that to happen. Satan can have my soul before that ever happens, because those two have already suffered quite some heartache. Not saying I haven't, but that's not the point. Those two might fall in love, and if that happens and they get their hearts broken, I'm going to have to go kick some English and German ass. I'm small but strong. I might be acting a bit paranoid and/or overprotective, but hey, that happens when you've never experienced actual love from your parents (from anyone, really) and when your younger brothers have a tendency to get their hearts broken or toyed around with.

After Feliciano and Marcello discussed the two strangers they met, they stared expectantly at me, as if I was going to start talking about a random stranger that caught my interest. "What?" I asked them, my mouth full with bread.

"Lovino, eat all of your food before talking," Nonno said. Nonno always had table manners and he taught us everything about them.

I quickly swallowed my food and wiped my mouth, then asked, "What?" again.

Marcello looked at me as if I had just said something stupid. "What about you? Did you do anything interesting yesterday?" He then smirked, as if he knew something I didn't. Fucking brat.

Feliciano looked at me confused, and then asked, "Did something happen?" I was confused the whole way through. What the fuck was Marcello talking about? I didn't think I did anything interesting yesterday. I ate tomatoes, I went out on a walk, flirted with some pretty ladies, bumped into the stranger again from when I was watering my tomatoes, we talked a bit, then went to a cafe to eat and rest, and then went back home and reread a bunch of books. What was so interesting about yesterday?

Marcello groaned in obvious annoyance and rolled his eyes. I was about to throw a tomato at his face when I reconsidered; do I really want to waste such a good tomato to throw at his face? Eh, not today. Lucky bastard.

"I obviously saw everything, Lovino. Can't hide anything from me y'know," Marcello just said. Now I was really motherfucking confused. What the fuck was he talking about?

"Ugh," he said, annoyed at my confusion. Well, excuse-the-fuck-me if I can't read your mind, fucker! "I saw your date with that 'stranger' you met yesterday, fratello!" Marcello exclaimed. When he said that, both Feliciano and Nonno had stopped eating and looked at me surprised. I nearly spat cappuccino in his face, but I forced myself to swallow it.

"My 'date'? What 'date'?" I asked, adding quotations around the word date.

Marcello just rolled his eyes again, and in the most dead-panned voice, he said, "You were obviously on a date with that dude with brown curly hair and green eyes. I mean, you kept on talking about a book or something, and trust me when I say you aren't the type of person to hold conversations. That, and I know when you're interested in something or someone."

"Now hold the fuck up," I said, "How would you know if it was a date or not? I get to decide since I was actually there, and I say that it was definitely not a date. What kinda strangers go on dates? Shut the fuck up now, I'm trying to eat my fucking breakfast in peace."

My brother and Nonno decided to interrogate me right then and there, even if I had just said my semi-speech. Most of my answers were, "No."; "Shut the fuck up."; "You're annoying."; "Why would you ask me that?"; "Leave me alone."; and "Stop asking these goddamn questions!".

I left the kitchen and went to my tomato garden, completely ignoring those three. I swear to God my family is annoying, naïve, and they almost always judge a book by its cover. Or, as I like to say it, over exaggerate when it comes to me talking to strangers.

_Later_

So after eating a bunch of delicious tomatoes that came from heaven, I decided to write something.

_Mama came back home with little brother and big brother after days in the hospital. Mama held little brother close to her and big brother held her hand while trying to hide behind her. Little brother was asleep in Mama's arms, while big brother was wide awake, not wanting to go home. Not now, not ever._

_Papa scared him a lot now, after what he did. He not only hurt Mama, but he hurt fratello, too. It was okay if he was hurt, he didn't mind — okay, no, he minded, a lot, he just didn't want his papa to hate him as much as he did already. Even if what papa did was a bad thing, he still loved papa, and he still wanted papa to love him back. So if papa found joy in hurting people, he would let papa hurt him, because Mama was too precious, and little brother was still very young and couldn't fend for himself. That, and he was supposed to protect those two. It was his responsibility. He was the only 'man' in the house that wouldn't hurt little brother or Mama. He didn't know how to; he just knew he had to._

_He forgot that he himself was weak and fragile against papa, and could've actually lost an eye._

_As soon as Mama opened the door, big brother bolted to his room, afraid to confront father. But then, something made him stop. If he went upstairs to his room, what would happen to Mama and little brother? Papa might hurt them worse than last time. Big brother was hesitant to decide, but he ended up staying downstairs with little brother and Mama, just in case papa was going to hurt them more. Luckily for him, Mama, and little brother, Papa was passed out on the sofa, and Mama muttered under her breath about drinking too much of something called 'beer'._

_What was beer? Was that what made papa attack Mama, little brother, and him?_

Arghhh, I'm too lazy to continue this right now. Maybe later.

_Around Siesta Time_

I haven't wrote anything in here for more than an hour, which is somewhat a lot, I guess, since I seem to write a whole bunch of things.

But now there's nothing to do.

I might as well go to my secret hiding spot which I will never tell you the destination of. Haha, sucker.

Whoa, I actually wrote more than a sentence without a fucking swear word. Wow, I'm impressed with myself.

I've been asked by a lot of people why I swear a lot, and it's mainly 'cause it's become a bad habit which I'll never break out of. Even if it was for all the tomatoes you could offer me.

Maybe for all the tomatoes in the world, but I highly doubt you've got motherfucking access to get every single one of them.

_Laterrr_

I'm so fucking bored. I swear to God that I've read every single book Nonno's got at least three times.

_Somebody-help-me-I'm-so-fucking-bored Later_

You know what I don't get? Friends. Especially those 'friends' that people call 'best friends'. I mean, come on. Nobody's actually going to care about your life problems. Trust me, I'm an experienced expert at this stuff. And really, if a 'best friend' beats you up and insults you, and you do the same, isn't that what you call an enemy?

And that other word, frenemies. Like, the fuck? Are you friends or are you enemies? Make up your fucking minds already, gosh! If they abuse you, make you feel insecure, make you feel like absolute shit, then obviously that person's not your friend. Nor are they an enemy. They are a fucking bully.

And then those absolutely weird 'friends' that act extremely homosexual. I get so confused. Are you guys together or are you guys fuckbuddies? I absolutely do not get it, never will, and won't ever want to.

Anyways — and don't say I have friends, because I don't. I meet people only once, and then they're gone for the rest of my life. Those people are called acquaintances. The only people that're close to me? My_ fratelli_. No one else, because no one else is trustworthy, nor would they care about me. And I'm going to ignore the part where I want to say I don't want anyonebreakingpromisesorhear tsanymore. I'm tired of that. I'm so used to it that it's not even funny anymore.

And don't even tell me that it wasn't funny in the first place. The first people, my parents (yes, parents) have had a good laugh of breaking our hearts and their promises.

Ehm, anyways, I'll stop there for today. I've got nothing else to do, and I don't want to write anything on here anymore.

_The Next Day_

Guess what I found out? I think you can actually make a tomato pie.

I'm going to try that out. It can't hurt, right?

_Later_

Never mind. Don't try it, it'll fail badly. Maybe it's because I need a fucking recipe. Where the hell am I going to get the fucking recipe for tomato pie? If you suggest the library, I will slap you. The library is miles away from where I live, so that's a big nope in my book. And even though I'm great at cooking, it'll take some time to make my own recipe.

When was the last time I did? Probably when I made tomato smoothies. First time ended up wrecking the kitchen. It was funny as hell, but the mess was unbearable. Nonno seemed to agree with the way he looked when he walked in on the tomato-plastered-every-fucking-where kitchen.

Tip for all of you bastards; Never forget to put the cap back on the blender after adding everything in. Or else you're in for a surprise.

_Much later_

The green vines that wrap around the broken wall of the building are just so alluring. And the little flowers that sprout here and there? Beautiful. I'm glad I found this place.

You probably have no idea what I'm talking about, but I don't care. I'm sitting in my secret hiding place, where no one's ever found me. It's located somewhere further away from town, in an old abandoned house. I'm not scared of abandoned houses. I found out there was nothing to be scared of and that they make beautiful places to hide when you just want a moment for yourself. I come here for many different reasons, but as if I'm going to write it all down. It'll take more than two fucking pages, and I'm not going to waste my time doing that.

_Later_

I got a bit bored and started counting pages. It's only been four days and I've already used up nearly seven pages of this journal. Damn. I write a lot. But anyways, that's besides the point. I'm not going to write on here for a little while, I'm going to take my overdue siesta.

_After Waking Up_

This fucking thing. Ugh, this fucking thing woke me up. If you're wondering what the hell the thing is, it's a turtle.

Yep, a turtle.

How the hell do you find a turtle in an abandoned house? Fucking hell if I fucking know.

When it woke me up, I didn't know it was a turtle, so I accidently hit it hard. Thankfully I hit the thing on its shell, or else it might've gotten seriously injured. Small as I may be, I'm actually quite strong (I told you that earlier, dick face). Anyways, it scurried away somewhere and I'm actually quite curious about it (no, not worried, curious dammit!), so I tried to look for it. Crawling on hands and knees, like a dog, is not fun. Why am I crawling? Because the turtle was as green as the grass and it could be anywhere. That and I don't want to stop on the damn thing. That'd be disgusting, wrong, and animal-abuse. Which I am fully against.

I mean, come on. Animals have more altruism than humans. Don't try to argue, since I know that's true, and so do you.

Well, anyways, as I was searching for the turtle on the grass, I was face to face with a pair of legs. I backed up bit and looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes looking down at me with confusion. It was that fucking stranger, Antonio, again. Yes, he's still a stranger, since I don't consider him as a friend.

Yet. Or at all. Maybe I'll never consider him as a 'friend'. You can't trust people, I told you.

He knelt down in front of me and asked in a confused voice, "Lovi?" What the fuck is a 'Lovi'? "What are you doing on the ground?"

I dismissed the fact that he called me 'Lovi' (again, the fuck?), and said, "Try'na look for a turtle. Stupid turtle woke me up and I accidentally hit its shell so it ran away."

The bastard smiled when I mentioned the word 'turtle'. Then he gave me this smile and said, "_Muy bien_! You already met _Señor Tortuga_~! That means you can help me find him!"

I looked at him as if to say, 'The fuck?', but all he did was drag me to my feet. Before he pulled me to every-which-way direction, I asked him, "Do you even know where your turtle went?"

He shook his head to say no, making me face-palm. The bastard was going to look for his turtle and he didn't even know where it was before he lost it? What an idiot. I sighed while rolling my eyes, and told him, "Follow me, I should know since your turtle woke me up during my siesta."

"Okay!" he said, before following me.

_After Searching_

We searched around the abandoned house, even my secret hideout (I didn't tell him it was my hideout though), but we couldn't find the turtle at all. And after all that falling! D'you know how many times I nearly fell face-first to the ground? It was a good thing that.. Antonio? (that's his name, right?) Er, yeah, Antonio caught me one way or another. It was a couple of hours after we tried searching for the goddamn thing, and I swear we searched the whole place. I sat down on the grass and asked him, "Where was the last place you saw your fucking turtle?"

He sat down next to me and replied, "Next to a pond. But then he scurried away and found you, I guess. Do you think _Señor Tortuga_ is there?"

I looked at him confused. There was a pond around here? I found this place when I was fourteen, and only now, after two years, have I ever heard that there was a pond nearby. But hey, the guy might be lying. Can't trust everything anyone says, y'know?

So I told him to go look for _Señor_ Turtle by the pond. I told him to go, not us.

But what does the bastard do? He grabs my hand and makes me stand up, and drags me all the way to the pond. The pond was farther away than I thought, but it was gorgeous. It looked like something you see everyday on those cheesy romantic movies where the girl and the guy go and have a picnic. It reflected the orange sunset somewhat.

Yeah, yeah, I should have stopped gawking at the beautiful scenery but I couldn't, okay? I mean, you'd stop and stare if you saw a pond in the middle of a fucking forest (meadow kinda, since I guess we went uphill somehow? Hard to describe). There aren't any trees covering the pond, they're all, like, five feet away from the pond for some reason. Maybe something happened here, I don't know.

Anyways, I wasn't paying attention at all to where I was going, and, surprise surprise, I tripped on something. What was that thing, you ask?

Well, it was_ Señor Tortuga_. I called Antonio to come over here, telling him I found his stupid fucking turtle. He came running to where I was at, and then hugged me. That's right, he fucking hugged me! Ugh, human contact! Ew!

I pushed (well, tried, at least) him off of me, saying, "Don't fucking hug me!" He just laughed it off. He picked _Señor Tortuga_ up, and with the biggest smile he said, "_Señor Tortuga, conocer a Lovi!_"

Now I don't fucking speak Spanish, but I'm not stupid. Since Spanish and Italian sound somewhat alike, and_ conoscere_ is 'meet' in Italian, I know he said 'Mr. Turtle, meet Lovi,' or something similar.

"Lovi, this is —" Before he could finish his sentence, I said, "Yeah yeah, I know who this is. Mr. Turtle."

He still had that stupid smile on his face, and I wondered if he ever stopped smiling. I mean, wouldn't his face hurt after all that smiling? Did he ever frown? It looked doubtful. Anyways, he sat next to me after I sat under a big tree and started talking and playing with Mr. Turtle. He tried to get me to play with his stupid pet turtle, but I declined, saying I wasn't in the mood to.

_Later_

I'm still in the pond place with Antonio and his turtle. But this time, Antonio fell asleep on my shoulder (uh, awkward) and his turtle, too. So it's just me and my thoughts.

Y'know what I did? Course not. I wrote something.

[_[Lovino's Writing]]_

_It was risky. He knew that. It was stupid. He knew that too. But he still did it. Carrying packs of beer were hard, but yet he surprised himself by finishing off three packs. They were either put in the trash can (safely hidden, big brother thinks), or he poured the liquid thing down the drain and smashed the bottle on the ground outside. Of course, he had to be careful. Glass like that already nearly took his eye._

_The fourth pack was harder to hide. The trash can was nearly full, and he'd have to be extra careful so the box wouldn't be seen. If he drained the beer and smashed the bottle, there would be even more cuts and bruises on his hands. It was worth it, though. If 'beer' was what made Papa attack him, Mama, and little brother, then he would do all he can to make it disappear. Even if it hurt him a lot._

_'Just one more pack..' Big Brother thought. Little did he know what he was doing would cause many bruises on the back and around the shoulders later on._

It's short, I know, shut the fuck up. I didn't know what else to write, okay? Jeez, this guy's heavy.

Y'know.. Writing about the kid having a scar... It upsets me. If I had to be honest, it makes me distressed. Don't ask why.

_Later Later_

I just realized that when people first meet me, they'd usually ask me about my scar that starts from my eyebrow all the way down to my cheek, near my nose. Of course, I'd tell them to fuck off and that it was none of their business. But it's been two days (I think) and Antonio has yet to ask me about it. I hope he never does.

I hate the reason why I have it, and I hate the person who gave it to me.

You should know who. You're me.

Anyway, I've been deciding whether or not I should just stand up and let the bastard fall on the ground (it'd be amusing) or just let him sleep until he wakes up.

I'm kinda leaning towards the first option. Like hell I'd feel sorry if he injured that stupid brain of his (Okay, that's kind of a lie, but shut the fuck up).

I'll stop writing here until I decide._ Arrivederci, bastardo._

_Goddammit it's evening_

Read the title. Yeah. Antonio's been asleep for about two hours. Then, I dunno, I guess I fell asleep too, 'cause when I woke up (just minutes ago), it was not the same orange sunset I saw earlier. I guess I had a pretty long siesta.

Well, weird thing is that instead of just leaving me here like any other bastard would, he (there is only one other he, so I'm not going to bother writing his name) stayed where he was until I woke up. I asked him why, and he told me, "You'll get lost! You haven't seen this place before, right?"

It was true, I would have gotten lost.

He asked if he could walk me home, since it was dark and whatnot, as to which I replied to, "I can walk by my-fucking-self, bastard! I'm not a girl."

He fucking chuckled and said, "I know you aren't a girl, Lovi! But I'll get worried if I don't walk you home! I mean, I won't know if you're safe or not!"

I looked at him as if he was the stupidest person I'd ever met. I'm a guy for fuck's sake! I can handle myself pretty well! And jeez, what's with him? We aren't even friends! He worries way too much, in my opinion. I groaned, agitated, and told him he could walk me home if he stopped worrying so much, and if he gave me tomatoes if we ever met again. He agreed, and, well, y'know, walked me home.

_Finally at home_

Yeah, I'm finally home, and it's around 8-ish. I didn't know I'd been gone for that long. When I arrived, Feliciano and Marcello came running towards me and asked where I was all day and that they've been worried sick and that they thought something terrible happened or some shit like that. I scoffed and asked them if they'd forgotten my special head-butt move. That's when they laughed and realized that if anyone tried to kidnap me, they'd have to be super fast when it comes to running and super strong as to not get affected by my head-butt. They've both experienced my head-butts for multiple reasons.

I would be lying if I wrote that they didn't interrogate me. Well, they did interrogate me, having seen Antonio walk me home. I was pissed off 'cause they kept on saying these stupid-as-fuck things.

Before I realized what I was saying, I said, "Can't friends fucking walk each other home just to make sure they're safe?"

They looked at me with blank faces, and all I thought was, _'Cazzo'_. Yeah, yeah, I accidentally called Antonio a 'friend' of mine, but don't get confused. I only said that to make them shut up.

"HE'S YOUR FRIEND?!" they shouted, surprising both me and Nonno.

I looked at them and said, "Uh, sure.." What's the big deal with having a, uh, 'friend'?

"Wow, oh my gosh,_ fratello_ finally has a friend!"

"Can you believe it? D'you think the world's going to end soon?"

"No, that can't be! Ve~ This person either really likes_ fratello_ or can tolerate his anger."

"Are you sure this person isn't in it just for _fratello's_ good looks? I mean, we Italians are pretty good looking."

"No, no, that can't be it, ve~ I mean, us knowing Lovino, the person has probably already experience_d fratello's_ head-butts. I'll be surprised if they haven't!"

"Yeah, you're right. After someone experiences Lovino's great and powerful head-butt, they'll stop trying to get to know him."

After a short pause, both idiots looked at me and asked, "Have you even given him your famous head-butt yet?"

"... No?"

Instantly I knew that was the wrong answer. They kept on asking me stupid fucking questions, and goddamn it was tiring.

After that, though, dinner was ready and blah blah blah, I took a shower and am currently going to bed.

_Buonnanotte diario._

* * *

**A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS! WOOP! I hope you guys enjoyed the second chappy! Not much happens in a couple of chapters, but don't worry, romance will find it's way between those two cuties! Review!~**

Translations:

_Fratelli - Italian - brothers_

_Fratello - Italian - Brother_

_Muy bien! - Spanish - Very good!_

_Señor Tortuga - Mister Turtle_

_Señor Tortuga, conocer a Lovi! - Spanish - Mister Turtle, meet Lovi!_

_Cazzo - Italian - Fuck_

_Buonnannote diario - Goodnight, diary/journal_

_Arrivederci bastardo - see you [again] bastard_

**I think that's all that needs to be translated. I hope you guys liked it!~ Leave a review please!**

**P.S. Thanks so much Heroic Panda-San for beta-ing for me~! Pssssssssstgaizifyouhaven'treadherfanfictionsyetgoahea d!**

**Okay I'll stop advertising now but seriously guys go ahead and do that uwu**


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